


White Out

by cappachii



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron Legendary Defender, klance - Fandom, shallura - Fandom
Genre: !!!, Angst, F/F, F/M, I do absolutely nothing halfway, I promise I'll tone it down as much as possible, I write a lot of serious stuff so be careful if your heart can't take stuff like that, I'm gay for their relationship, Keith really doesn't care, Lance really dislikes Keith, M/M, Voltron, definite anxiety, klance, mentions of severe depression, possible mentions of an eating disorder, shallura - Freeform, ski team, sports AU, that's like the point of this thing, things change of course, this was just supposed to be a one-shot, voltron legendary defender - Freeform, where did I even come up with this ??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cappachii/pseuds/cappachii
Summary: Nothing's ever been easy for Lance.  He's the middle child of six, and he grew up either being pummeled by the older kids or clung to by the younger.  He was the shortest kid in kindergarten and he got teased mercilessly for it.  And when he finally made his first real friend, his family sent him away.  But his disappointment of a childhood was filled with wonder when he found himself in British Columbia at a boarding school next to a ski resort.  Training with his idol, the legendary Takashi Shirogane, left Lance floating on air, but he was quickly deterred by an irritatingly talented black cloud of a boy.  Whatever time they had outside of training was spend feuding, and they soon found themselves neck-and-neck at the top of their age group.  Working together on a team may have been the last thing Lance wanted, but it definitely helped him learn.Maybe a little too much.





	1. Chapter 1

“Ow. Fuck.”

It was a snowbank this time; in that sense, he had gotten lucky. But his head was throbbing and his nose was stinging and, when he put his hand on his forehead, there was definitely the start of a bruise. He cursed again, trying to push himself up, only to flop over once again in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Lance McClain, the eccentric-but-impressive wild card of the Voltron A-list ski team, groaned and turned away from the voice. It figured - the person he liked the least was always the one whose pace was closest to his. A gloved hand reached out and Lance gritted his teeth, swallowing his pride before taking it and letting himself be pulled out of the bank.

His teammate, nose rubbed raw from the gold and an exasperated expression on his face, extracted his hand quick as lightning.

“You idiot,” he hissed, his voice a little muffled by the thick scarf around his neck. “We’re supposed to be practicing pacing, not rocketing down the hill. Do these exercises not mean _anything_ to you?”

Lance resisted the urge to throw himself down once more. He tried to stick some venom in his voice, but his frustration subdued it into a sort of confused annoyance.

“You’re the one who told me I was too much of a stick to get the momentum needed to go fast!” he complained, jabbing an accusing finger at his teammate.

The corners of the boy’s mouth curled into a smirk and Lance hissed under his breath. Cocky bastard. Lance pulled his own sports turtleneck up, searching for the warmth he knew from experience was nonexistent. 

They both turned to see a flash of black before a man skidded to a graceful stop in front of them. His pointed expression and confident posture made them both scoot back unconsciously.

“Lance, are you hurt?”

Lance blinked. He was expecting an immediate scolding from the ski instructor he’d admired for as long as he could remember. 

When Lance didn’t respond, Takashi Shirogane sighed, pulling his helmet off to fix the younger boy with an unreadable stare.

“Keith looked a little panicky when you went down; he kicked off his skis before he went to get you, so I was worried something was wrong.”

Lance tried to stop the sly expression from reaching his eyes, but by the way Keith squawked and slapped at Shiro’s arm, he hadn’t hid it well. Looking down, he noticed that Keith was indeed ski-less. He hummed to himself.

“I’m fine, Shiro. Thank you. Just the usual.”

Shiro looked at him with the fatherly concern he’d gotten so used to. “Are you sure? I know you’re the type who would ignore things so you don’t worry people.”

Beside him, Keith snorted. “Oh please, he’s the biggest drama queen ever. Are we talking about the same Lance here?”

Lance chewed his lip, trying his best not to deck his teammate in favor of impressing Shiro. He never understood how Keith could so easily combat Shiro without getting his ass handed to him like many others on the team had had.

Shiro sighed, clearly ready to be done with the conversation. “Well, as long as Lance isn’t hurt, we can keep going. Please, though-” he pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand, inhaling as if he had a migraine, “-stay near me. Or anyone who can handle the two of you. Seriously.”

Keith surprisingly held his tongue as they both nodded vigorously. Shiro, seemingly satisfied with their reaction, took off down the hill, disgustingly elegant. The two shared a look, best described as tolerantly distrustful, before Keith took off in the direction Shiro had left.

Lance counted to ten before he himself pushed off, choosing to ignore the slight stinging in his leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aLRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT.
> 
> Man, I have no idea where I came up with this idea - I was in my drama class (obviously not paying attention, which I should have been doing but literally never do) and I just started cranking out ideas for a ski team AU. Why? No idea. 
> 
> I got into Voltron late - only a few weeks before Season 2 reared its head - and it's completely wrecked me. The amount of art I have saved to my phone is astonishing. I've been flipping through Klance fanfictions with the desperation of a man in the desert without water - not lying, I haven't been sleeping, and my studies are slightly suffering because of it (who needs college anyway lmao it's not like we're paying for it or anything), but mAN, I think it's time to get it together and finally write something of my own. So here's a shitty sports AU.
> 
> It's probably going to be a slow burn, considering how I've written for everything else (because I'm an asshole), but I'm enjoying writing it so far. I'm excited to see if it's actually going to go anywhere. I'll try to post as regularly as possible - I like having two or three chapters done ahead of time before I post something, in case something happens and I'm not able to write for a while - and I have no clue how long this thing will be (I literally just planned on it being a one-shot, I SUCK), but if you'll bear with me, I'll try my best for you.
> 
> I'm not super good with humor, so please keep that in mind; I'm the Keith in my relationship, lol. My boyfriend's the one with the dumb pick-up lines. Disclaimer: I'm extremely biased towards a massive bromance between Hunk and Lance, and I'm really hesitant to get Pidge into anything serious, so those are just tendencies I'll try to fight if I think something else'll work better. I promise you guys I won't hurt Space Dad (I literally can't, my soul left my body at the end of Season Two and I'm still trying to find it), but I write a LOT of angst, so heads up. I promise I won't do anything that won't be resolved in some way, though. 
> 
> (I did some doodles while writing this out, and I've posted them in my Photobucket - I did them in the middle of astronomy so they're LITERALLY on the back of my homework, but you get the idea. I want to sketch some scenes out just to visualize some of it. You can find me on Photobucket and/or Tumblr and yell at me - my username is cescatec.)


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the team was crowded around the firepit at the main cabin when Lance arrived. Keith was taking off his gloves, his hair wild from its time stuffed in his helmet, and he leveled a glare at his teammate when Lance approached them. There were twelve of them in all, ranging from sixteen to twenty; Lance hadn’t really bothered to exchange more than enthusiastic support with most of them, but they were generally nice enough. He accepted the warm rag one of the boys threw at him and scrubbed at his face, wincing as he caught a nick on his temple.

“Lance! Hey, are you okay? I heard you fell again.”

A girl with short brown hair and hoops that glittered in her ears glided towards him, eyes searching the boy in question and heaving a sigh of relief when he nodded. Freckles dotted her nose and her skin held a warm glow, as if she had just come off summer vacation and they weren’t in the middle of winter. She was the sort of natural pretty you could expect from someone who was dedicated to their work enough to forgo the stress of self-care. She grabbed him by the shoulders and inspected him once more before handing him a pack of bandages and headed towards the storage racks.

“Thanks, Shay,” he called, trying to stifled the half-hearted undertone in his voice. Her strokes were even and she looked at-ease, as if she was simply walking and not skating without poles on an unpacked snowbank.

Lance just shook his head - pretty much everyone here was an incredible skier. He fumbled with his own skates, ready to click them off and head inside to grab something to eat, but Shiro called out a five minute break warning and Lance decided against it. 

Everyone here was talented - Voltron was a world-renowned resort. But Shiro...Shiro had confidence that came with territory foreign to most. He had been on the Olympic track before a strange injury had wrecked his arm; he wore a brace most of the time and sports tape when he skied, and it almost never came up. When it did, he simply retreated into the instructors’ office for a bit and came out right as rain. That was just who Shiro was.

“Beautiful.”

Lance turned with gritted teeth to see Keith, who wasn’t looking at him, but whose crafty smirk told it all. To be fair, their rivalry had started when Lance had first stepped foot in the doorway of the main cabin. Immediately it was all “Keith, Keith, Keith”...the prodigy, the kid who had brought home golds since he could walk. Before Lance had even met him, he hated him. He hated how Shiro’s eyes softened looking at him - only him - and he hated how Keith barely even bothered to notice. He hated how Keith could give his instructor - his mentor - so much lip and get off scot-free. He had tried everything he could to make himself heard, but, even at his best, he was second. There were no trophies or medals in his room - he threw them all away. Silver. All of them were silver.

And yet, though he wished Keith would disappear, and though he had been working harder than ever, he knew it wasn’t only to impress Shiro.

He wanted Keith to see him.

He honestly believed that the kid was the worst - everyone on the team knew Lance genuinely couldn’t stand Keith. They were oil and water to say the least - Keith was apathetic but hotheaded, and Lance was quick-tempered and hyperaware. Every little thing Keith did made his skin crawl. Shiro had tried his very best to help Lance see that he wasn’t “giving Keith a chance to change”. But absolutely nothing changed since the day Lance got his wish on his eighth birthday - to learn to ski - and first met Keith. 

Everything went downhill, literally.

As per usual, Lance wasn’t looking where he was going, and nearly fell into the fire pit when a strong arm grabbed him and pulled him back.

“Bro, what the hell?”

Lance turned, a bright grin spreading across his face. “Hunk!”

He smooshed his face immediately into the parka of his best friend. Hunk grunted with the sudden impact and stumbled a bit (thankfully away from the fire pit this time) before latching onto the lanky brunette who was now overdramatically sobbing in his arms. Hunk groaned.

“Lance, stop it, I was only gone for a week.”

Lance sniffed. “Seven days! Isn’t that how long God took to make the world?”

“Six days, dumbass.”

The two swiveled around to find a small caramel-haired figure leaning against the door frame. She wore a Voltron ski team T-shirt and an incredibly exasperated expression.

Lance clicked his tongue. “Children shouldn’t curse,” he scolded teasingly.

“Shut up, Lance.” Katie Holt - known to everyone as Pidge Gunderson before she slipped up, resulting in mock surprise from mostly everyone and complete shock for Lance - pushed by, handing out muffins to the team who took them gratefully. She scowled before throwing one at Lance’s own head; he squeaked and hid in the folds of Hunk’s jacket. Hunk, with reflexes faster than anyone his size should have, snatched the muffin out of thin air and proceeded to balance it on his insulted friend’s head. 

Pidge, a fourteen-year-old with the brain of someone far older than that, had become one of the boys’ best friends over the years. She had quite literally been raised in the ski resort - with her father being a professional and her brother following in his footsteps, it was assumed to be a crime for her not to know her way around the hills. On her eleventh birthday, she had received a snowboard, and she had learned the technique far faster than anyone ever should be allowed to; she often trailed the team during their practices, yelling insults until Shiro told her to be quiet. She was too smart for her own good, and her sarcasm had yet to be matched, and Lance and Hunk loved her.

She worked in the cabin snack bar when she wasn’t “shredding the gnar” - she was on the B-list team due to her age, which she loudly protested whenever it was brought up, but she trained with Shiro in her spare time and it was quite obvious that she could annihilate them with her arms tied behind her back. It came naturally to her, just as it had to Matt - Matt Holt, whose picture graced the hallway among the other Olympians. Pidge was very close to her brother - that was made clear through her frantic texting whenever something good (or bad) happened - and every so often she would fall into a bout of sadness, but a few minutes with Shiro fixed her every time. Pidge had common ground with nearly everybody, whether it be sport, relations, or her intense love of computers, and it made her extremely lovable despite her snarky comments and bad moods.

Lance envied that intensely.

Someone grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and Lance snapped back to attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first few chapters are going to be so freaking short, aH. I want to try to get the first few out there so it looks like I'm actually working on things (you feel me?), but that means cutting the first few real short. Oh well. I'm not sure how I'm feeling about putting images in still - it feels kinda...choppy. So I'm going to put a link to my Photobucket account, where I'll upload all of the doodles I do for this work.
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with me for the second chapter. I hope you're enjoying it so far!
> 
> [Photobucket album here](http://s61.photobucket.com/user/cescatec/library/)


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro was staring at him, sharp concern flashing in his usually kind eyes, and it was clear who had gotten him. Keith stood behind him, eyes slanted away, an almost guilty expression on his face. Lance gritted his teeth - _desperate to show Shiro any weaknesses I have, huh?_

Then Lance realized he was on the ground, and saw his teammate’s worried faces peering at him from all sides. Shiro was bent down, the back of his hand now on Lance’s forehead, and Hunk looked like he was holding back tears. Pidge looked utterly unimpressed.

“Lance! Oh, thank God, he’s awake.” Shiro nodded to someone over his shoulder, and he heard footsteps retreating quickly. Keith turned and stared at Lance, steely gray eyes burning holes on his jawline. He resisted the urge to jump up and deck him.

Shiro sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, which Lance noticed was damp with sweat. “What happened, Hunk? Did he hit anything?”

Hunk composed himself before speaking.

“I-I don’t know, he just...sorta...fell, I guess? I was looking at Pidge, so I didn’t know until he landed on my foot - which really hurt, by the way - and he looked like he was out cold. I don’t think he hit anything but the ground, and I think his head avoided any impact. I think. I-”

“-I think he hit his elbow on the side of the chair near you,” a voice muttered. Everyone turned to see Keith, once again looking away, bangs hiding his face. His arms were crossed defensively, and his scarf was wrapped around his jaw so his mouth was barely visible when it moved.

Shiro turned, a confused but slightly relieved expression on his face. “Do you-”

“-how the _hell_ do you know that? Are you _spying on me_ , Mullet?” Lance didn’t know why he was seething like he was, but his hands balled into fists and Shiro had to place a hand on his chest to keep him down. Keith had the expression of a chameleon on his face, void of emotion. Lance wanted to throttle him.

“I was just trying to make sure you were okay.”

The words took even Lance by surprise, and Keith’s body posture said it all. He was the essence of a brooding teenager, his hands in the unzipped pockets of his ski jacket and his foot in its boot aimlessly kicking at loose powder. Pidge stared down at him almost disapprovingly, and Hunk just exhaled, long and slow, as if taking his time would speed up the process around him.

“Keith,” Shiro murmured, and his voice was softer than usual. “Can you go get Allura?”

There was the sound of snow crunching under boots and Keith was no longer in Lance’s line of sight. Lance lay back down in mock frustration - really, it was confusion - but cursed when he hit the back of his head on the pavement. Shiro scrambled to pull him up again.

“ _Damn it_ , Lance, you could have a concussion! This is _serious!_ ” He fumbled with the hand not holding Lance up, trying to unzip his coat pocket. “How can we reach your parents?”

Lance’s vision was going a little blurry at the edges and he barely heard Shiro address him.

“What?”

Shiro slapped at his face lightly, and the blue in Lance’s eyes sparkled once more. He looked tired, but he was awake, and he needed to be conscious in order for them to properly help him.

“How can I contact your parents?”

Lance hummed, weighing his options, before he realized how exhausted he was and dropped his façade. 

“My parents are in Cuba.”

“ _What?_ ”

Now a little more alert, the brunette pulled himself from his instructor’s arms and fixed the small congregation gathered in front of him with a level stare. They all wore varying shades of worry and confusion; Hunk’s jaw was nearly on the floor, and Pidge was adjusting her glasses nervously.

“My parents are in Cuba,” he laughed, feeling his throat tighten. “I was sent here when I was eight. I live at the boarding school a few streets down from here. I found a way for the ski club to count as my extracurricular, so that’s why I’m here.”

“ _Shit,_ Lance,” Hunk muttered, shifting his balance and grimacing at the ground. “I always joked about you never spending any time with your family, since you talked about them so much, but _jeez_...how long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

“A few years - three, maybe?” Lance curled in on himself, knees bent, arms around them, and settled his chin on his folded hands. “It’s okay, really - they thought it was best that I go and test my opportunities. I just...miss them.”

“And rightfully so.” 

The new voice belonged to a young woman with silvery blonde hair and a worried expression; her skin was the color of chocolate, and they set off the blue in her eyes, making them dynamic and all too frightening to look into. Lance felt himself washed in an ocean of guilt. Allura dropped to her knees and put her fingers under his chin to make him look up; when he did, she cringed. Lance bit back a retort and waited for her diagnosis.

“He seems dazed, so even though he’s coherent, we have to get him to the hospital to make sure nothing serious is wrong.” Her smile was tight-lipped and very unlike Allura, and Lance felt his insides tightening. Something felt off.

Someone swept Lance into their arms, and Lance looked up to see a clearly distraught Hunk; he patted his friend on the shoulder to try and reassure him, but it just seemed to make his expression more prominent. Pidge trailed behind, tablet out and frantically typing, muttering things to herself and sneaking worried glances over at him. The crowd had been ushered inside the cabin with various complaints - though Lance hadn’t made a particularly hard effort to relate to his team, his natural charms brushed off well - and he was able to relax, only to catch his breath once more when he noticed an absence.

“Allura?” he questione, trying to swallow the panic that crept into his voice. “Where’s Shiro?”

Allura looked at him with an expression laced with pity. Lance quickly decided he hated that expression. 

“Shiro went to find Keith; I don’t think he took it well, for some reason.”

Hunk made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded a bit pained, and Pidge shut off her tablet in favor of running to Lance’s side. He couldn’t even feel how hard his fingers were digging into his palm, and didn’t notice the metallic taste of blood in his mouth when he bit his lip so hard it broke; he fought the stinging tears in his eyes and settled for sheer bitterness in his tone when he spoke.

“Shiro left me for _Keith?_ ”

Allura blinked, clearly confused. “Well, yes, but-”

“-I don’t want to hear it.”

Three heads snapped up in unison, staring in horror at the injured brunette who had somehow slipped out of Hunk’s grasp and was making his way towards the (restricted) instructors’ office. Allura made a move to run and grab him, but Pidge held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

“Let him go,” the smaller girl whispered, eyes flashing an emotion someone like Pidge should never have to wear. “It had to happen at some point; he’s been on the breaking point for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Allura's brows were knit with concern now, and strands of hair that had escaped the pristine knot on the top of her head were blowing in her face haphazardly. 

Hunk sighed and rested his hand on the confused woman’s other shoulder. “Lance doesn’t think things through, and that doesn’t just apply to himself. He’s well-known for being ridiculously oblivious. And...I think he thinks something’s going on. Something he can’t get between.”

“Something he can’t get between? Of course not, they’re b-”

“- _Allura_ ,” Pidge cut in, trying to bite her tongue for the sake of letting Lance learn on his own time. “Let Lance deal with this one. He’s impulsive, but he’s not stupid; if something is severely wrong with him, he’ll do something about it. He lives his life unconsciously prioritizing and, right now, I think he’s doing something he’s thought a lot about.”

“Pidge, I’m going to have to trust you with this.”

Hunk and Pidge nodded in unison, and Allura took a deep breath. “Okay. Call me if you need me.”

She took the clipboard she had set on a nearby table with her as she headed inside, pausing only to look forlornly at the instructors’ office before she opened the door to the main cabin and slipped inside. Hunk and Pidge looked at each other with matching expressions of guilt.

“Do you feel as badly about that as I do?”

Pidge slapped Hunk’s hand away before he bit them to the quick. “Yes,” she huffed. “But this isn’t our issue. Only Lance can fix Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alriiiiiiiiight, a little longer chapter than last time! I'm enjoying writing this so far. I'm always really worried about writer's block when it comes to stories like this, since they rely so heavily on the writer's interpretations of the characters, and I _really_ don't want to mess that up, so I'm really cautious with working on this. I hope it's going well enough so far, though! I can't give you a for-sure ending, but it'll probably end up being around ten chapters if I play my cards right. 
> 
> Although I skiied for a while back in elementary school (my parents _love_ skiing, I wasn't all that fond of it. I ultimately injured myself badly on a run, which made me dislike it more, but I then took up cross-country skiing and loved it to death. Unfortunately, my injury still messes with me a lot, but I go whenever I can, and I love the feeling of going through snow. It made me appreciate downhill skiing a lot more. I'd love to try it again sometime (even though it's against my doctors' wishes, oOPS.) There's definitely a lot of room for error with skiing, though, so it's understandable that Lance could easily be an idiot. You really have to stay engaged when you ski, because even just a little veer off-course could result in you landing in a snowbank. Or, y'know, a tree. Or a pole. In that sense, Lance got off really easy.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the reads already! I saw a few of you have bookmarked this work, which means a ton to me. Hopefully I can keep up your attention! Enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re _such_ an _idiot._ ”

Lance jolted awake, shrieking as his head hit the metal headboard behind him. Keith looked up from his perch on a plastic chair, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

The brunette groaned, reaching up to massage his temples, and looked down at the starch white blanket that covered his legs. He mindlessly noted that he was in the hospital - a pretty normal occurrence, when it came to his recklessness and the resort’s quick-to-react attitude - but it took him a few moments before he processed the feeling of those dark eyes still trained on him.

“W-What the hell?” he spluttered, nearly hitting the headboard again as he scooted away from his teammate. Keith looked inconvenienced, but the way his hands were shaking gave Lance pause, and he somehow managed to hold his tongue.

Keith sighed and leaned back a little in his chair, fixing his panicked teammate with an unreadable stare. “You passed out again,” he murmured, running a hand through his damp dark locks. “You were yelling something about abandonment issues and how much you hated me and I guess you might’ve hit something because, when we came to find you, you were out cold on the lobby carpet.” He held up a hand to stifle his laughter. “Sorry - you scared us so badly. I’ d never seen Shiro so freaked out.”

The name made Lance bristle.

“Right. _Shiro._ Must be nice having someone so close to you, huh?”

Keith crossed his legs and balanced his elbow on his knee, nestling his chin in his hand in some weird eagle-esque position. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You _guess?_ ” Lance didn't even bother hiding the venom in his voice. “Here you are, presented with the opportunity of a _lifetime,_ and you’re going to play dumb? Hell, what I would give to have Shiro look my way! And here you are, effortlessly working your way into-”

Keith held up a hand, mouth twisted up in concern. “-whoa, wait, what? What are you talking about?”

Lance landed a heavy glare sniper-style on Keith’s head, and the boy flinched. 

“I get that you and Shiro have something going on, whatever. But it affects the _team,_ and I’m so-”

“-Lance.”

Somewhere during Lance’s spiel, Keith had unwound himself, and the dark-haired boy was now looking above the bed, eyes a stormy sea. Lance swallowed a strange bubble of emotions, his jaw frozen still mid-sentence.

Keith searched his teammate’s face one more time before hissing through his teeth. 

“Lance, Shiro’s my _brother._ ”

The word hit Lance like a tidal wave; he couldn’t prevent an awkward strangled sound from escaping his lips before he clamped his mouth shut. He ducked his head in a moment of panic, but came up cackling.

Keith looked bewildered.

“Oh, jeez, I’m an idiot,” he choked out, nearly convulsing as laughter wracked his body. “I’m so dumb. I just...oh, quiznak, I can’t believe this.”

Keith settled for a look of mock outrage - he would have been scarily convincing had the corners of his mouth not been turned up.

“Have you really hated me all this time because of _Shiro?!_ ” His voice was a little more clear than usual, and it rang through the room; in between his gasping for breath, Lance mildly noted that it was a rather nice sound. 

“So why are you here? Did your _brother_ tell you to apologize to me?” Lance ignored the dryness of his mouth when he spoke, chalking it up to shock and excessive laughter. 

Keith shook his head to no one in particular.

“You sounded _really pissed,_ and the last word you said was ‘Keith’, so I felt like it’d be weird if you woke up and didn’t have the opportunity to bite my head off.” He looked up with half-lidded eyes, and Lance snorted.

“How kind of you. Was it everything you’d hoped?”

Keith grinned, an uncharacteristic thing for him to do, _especially_ in front of Lance. “I don’t know; I’m a little disappointed about the lack of derogatory names. I’m always impressed with your creativity. I hope you write a book someday.”

Lance rolled his eyes and flattened himself against the headboard. “Shut it, Mullet.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s not even _remotely_ creative.”

But the bite that was always so closely associated with Keith’s words was nonexistent, and Lance felt the weight on his chest lift a bit. He turned his head just slightly to look at his teammate; Keith looked at him skeptically, but it was hard to take him seriously with damp hair in his face and his scarf thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. He looked like a wet border collie.

“I’m _injured,_ Keef. Give me a pass.”

“Fair enough,” the dark-haired boy mused, adjusting the collar of his ski jacket and training his eyes on the floor. “Shiro’s down helping Allura check you in; you have a concussion, so they want to keep you here for the evening to make sure you won't throw up all over the pretty carpet.”

 _”Fair enough,”_ Lance mocked, but it just sounded like whining and it made Keith grin. Lance stuck his tongue out and Keith made a swatting motion, and the two gestured at each other until Lance flipped his teammate the bird and Keith pretended to strangle him and the two collapsed into a fit of halfhearted giggles.

“We’re partners,” Keith murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. Lance turned to him, brow arching, and Keith whipped his head around to hide what Lance obliviously missed as a blush. “For Blackwall, dumbass. For the exhibition event.”

“Ah.” Lance smiled at his pillow. “So that means I’m not as bad as everyone says I am?”

Keith grimaced and pointed a finger at his teammate accusingly. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” he demanded. “I _never_ said that!”

Lance pulled the blanket up over his chest and picked his head up a bit to catch Keith’s eye.

“Thank you, Keith."

Any other time, they both would've been blindsighted but, with Keith's awkward peripheral angle and Lance's stinging headache, the two settled for quiet acceptance. Keith nodded slowly and evenly, and Lance, apparently satiated with that response, buried his head back in the pillow to let his aching head rest. Keith threw himself back down in the little plastic chair, clicking his tongue good-naturedly. They lapsed into another few moments of silence, punctuated every so often with tiny groans of pain from the boy curled up in bed, but it was a genuinely nice one. Lance almost appreciated it.

It must have been a few minutes before Keith rose gingerly and padded back to the bed. In true Lance fashion, the brunette was fast asleep, and Keith sucked in a breath before smoothing his hair back. Without the hindrance of ski goggles or those _awful_ sunglasses he always refused to take off at competitions, Keith could see freckles dotting his nose, trailing in a galaxy pattern towards the high cheekbones that made him supermodel material. Keith felt his own nose sting a bit as he looked down, but made no effort to move; Lance wasn’t speaking, and that was something to be cherished, right? 

_Anyone would do that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hHAHAHA, KEITH IS SO GAY
> 
> ...so whatever anyone tells you, I did _not_ write this thing in the middle of psychology. :')
> 
> It's not really a surprise (at least, when it comes to my preferences) that I desperately want Keith and Shiro to be brothers, blood-related or adopted. I need my little string beans to have someone they really consider _family_ because they've both suffered so much and they nEED LOVE. I'm going to split this up with a little Shallura in order to have it span ten chapters (nice even number to satisfy my obsessive-compulsive tendencies), but it'll probably just be a lot of disgusting fluff because I'm really just enjoying writing this so far. Shiro's such a mother hen when it comes to his team. If anyone gets hurt, he overreacts, and Allura (who tries to be calm) panics whenever Shiro panics (aka always) so they always go overboard. The hospital pretty much knows Lance by _name._
> 
> (Also I'm convinced that Lance's last words were actually something along the lines of "Fuck this" but Keith changed it in order to have an excuse to stay with him. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You're not fooling anyone, Keef. (Except Lance, oops.))
> 
> Thank you so much for the support so far!! I got my first comment from Emma earlier today and I'm honestly hastag _blessed._ I promise I'll keep putting stuff up if you guys like it. ❤


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Ah,_ , Keith, it _hurts._ ”

Keith yanked off his helmet, dark locks falling over his fair skin like shadows on snow, and sent a sour expression Lance’s way. Lance stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and stepped out of his skis, falling to the ground for the umpteenth time. Shiro, who was a few yards away, sped down to them, eyes wide with concern. He stared at Keith, who just shrugged.

“He’s not injured, Shiro; he’s been doing this all day.”

Lance grinned sheepishly up at his instructor who exhaled a relieved puff of warmth into the winter air. Shiro was holding himself a bit differently on his skis, adjusting to the feel of a new, lighter brace that the doctors recommended he ski with to strengthen his atrophied muscles. He reached over with his good arm and gently knocked his knuckles against Lance’s helmet, his expression fond. 

“I’m glad you’re alright enough to complain, Lance.”

Behind Shiro, Keith hid his mouth in his glove, pretending to be preoccupied.

Lance shot up like a rocket, snatching up the ski poles he had tossed on the ground, and saluted his instructor with a vigor that hadn’t surfaced since his accident. “Thank you, Shiro! I promise I won’t let you down - I’ll bring it all home for the team!”

Shiro chuckled, not even bothering to glance over at his shoulder where he knew his little brother was either seething or amused. “Lance, as much as I love to hear that enthusiasm, don’t forget that this competition is a group effort. It requires teamwork.”

Lance faltered, and Keith took the opportunity to nab his skis and hold them so Lance couldn’t easily reach them. The brunette squeaked indignantly and made grabbing motions which only spurred his teammate on. Keith had, in a sense, lost about ten years of maturity since he and Lance had (mostly) patched up the feud that they had so vigorously pursued for years. _But,_ Shiro noted as Lance tackled Keith to the ground, screeching, _I haven’t seen Keith this happy in a long while._

Shiro turned away from his students’ brawl with a smile on his face, kicking off with a pole and gliding back down the mountain towards the main cabin. Keith looked up at the sound, which gave Lance the opportunity to smoosh snow into his teammate’s hair. Keith almost strangled him.

Lance straddled him, pushing him down further into the snow, grinning maliciously. The skis were a few feet away, now completely neglected, and Lance obviously had the upper hand. He leered at Keith, leaning over, blue eyes sparkling, and the dark-haired boy made a quick mental note of how pretty he was with the light on his skin and the flush on his cheeks.

Keith was no stranger to romantic feelings; he’d felt them before, and he’d learned to stomach them before they became a real issue. He didn’t find it exceptionally out-of-the-ordinary when, in seventh grade, he walked in on Lance changing shirts in the locker room and felt warmth rush to his face. He had never given much thought to anything other than skiing - he had a reputation to keep up, and he didn’t want anything, _especially_ as high-maintenance as a significant other, distracting his chances of going pro. Shiro had teased him a few times but never pressed the issue. Keith was able to keep his sexuality quiet enough to avoid questions, and he felt no remorse whatsoever at “missing any opportunity” that could’ve come about. 

But he had always paid a little closer attention to Lance. To be fair, he was incredibly tough to ignore, all awkward limbs and bright smiles, a tidal wave personified. Keith agreed it was only natural to gravitate towards someone with that string of an attitude. Not to mention that Lance never left him alone - Keith was a relatively quiet kid, and the kids on the training teams he had spent his first years with never really bothered him, so he was thoroughly caught off-guard. Shiro often pulled him aside after a particularly rough confrontation, telling him that Lance hadn’t grown into himself yet and didn’t know any better, but that only seemed to encourage his behavior. Lance lived his life out loud, and Keith knew he should’ve hated it. 

But Lance was an open book, and that was fascinating, so Keith tolerated the vicious attacks, both physical and emotional, in order to understand him. Shiro thought it was unhealthy; Allura was appalled; the other boys on the team grew wary of Lance and preferred to steer clear of both boys whenever they could. By the time they aged up into the A-list team the summer of their junior year of high school, Keith was certain that he knew enough about Lance to write a biography. It was all useless information, really, and Keith had wasted thousands of opportunities for relationships focusing on the boy who so genuinely seemed to despise him, but he never thought twice. 

_Keith liked Lance, and that was that._

So, as Lance leaned in closer, crafty smirk so natural on his lips, Keith found he didn’t mind. The fact that his hair was sopping wet and a complete mess didn’t bother him in the least. It used to absolutely infuriate Lance, that apathetic, uncaring gaze whenever Lance tried to provoke him. But now, Keith was vulnerable, and Lance was in control. And Lance _liked_ control.

“Lance, you’re gross.”

The brunette took the opportunity to flop on top of his teammate entirely, halfheartedly trying to suffocate him. Keith, realizing the moment of admiration was over, yelled in protest and tried peeling Lance off him to no avail. Lance pinned his flailing arms down, cackling as Keith slowly gave in, and tilted his head back to smile devilishly.

Keith, gray eyes glittering with a sort of amusement Lance would’ve bet money would never exist, smiled back.

There was a week until Blackwall Bash, the race Voltron had been asked to exhibition at. Naturally, Allura’s uncle Coran, who ran the resort, had requested the most skilled A-lister, which, naturally, was Keith. But the event planners had surprised them by asking to perform a two-person race to showcase the award-winning competitive technique Voltron had prided themselves on through the years. Allura had come to Shiro asking who his pick would be, but he directed her question to Keith, saying that the participant himself should choose his partner. 

Keith hadn’t hesitated.

“Am I reading this wrong?”

Lance, perched over his teammate just enough to see him clearly, regarded him with a puzzled expression. Keith sighed, trying to keep the sharpness in his tone down when he spoke.

“Lance, holy _crow,_ you are the most oblivious human being in the universe.”

It was impulse; at least, that’s what he told himself. It was his unconscious that led him to pull a hand gingerly from Lance’s grip and cup his cheek, gently, as if he’d shatter the surface and lose the freckles he found so fascinating. Lance was frozen, waiting on something he simply did not understand, and Keith felt affection tighten his throat as he inched closer, slower than he felt he could bear. Lance was on his elbows now, laying across Keith like it was a natural position, eyes wide but unseeing. All nerves had dissipated. 

Keith was no stranger to romantic feelings.

But he had never _acted_ on them.

Lance’s lips were, for the most part, exactly how they looked. They were cold and slightly chapped, a result of long days coasting on the dry winter wind, but they were soft in a foreign way. Keith swallowed his insecurity and tried to find the best way to go about this, Lance not moving a muscle as Keith adjusted himself to get a better angle. The temperature in the air hadn’t changed, but Keith’s face was on fire, and he felt that same heat radiating from the boy he now realized he had a bit more than a crush on.

Keith broke the kiss after a few moments, eyes fluttering open, hand retracting from where they had held Lance’s jaw. He put two fingers to his lips, feeling warmth and a pulse so strange he almost panicked, before he dared look up.

Lance looked to be on the verge of tears, and Keith blinked, biting back words and settling on a curious stare. _That wasn’t normal, was it?_

“I-I have to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Quick Note: The Blackwall Bash is a race in British Columbia that was held on January 22nd this year; it's a new race (this year was its second year) and it's a difficult one, but I loved the name and wanted an event to get some action in, so I'll be researching it a bit more before sticking it in. I'm a cross-country skier, so I have to make sure my terms are still correct before working on the race, but hEY, this is a weird concept, so it's going to have some weird discrepancies. You can read about Blackwall [here!](http://manningpark.com/event/the-blackwall-bash/)}
> 
> I kinda stayed up until 1:30AM on a school night writing this chapter because I honestly have 0% chill. (HAH. CHILL. SNOW PUNS.) I'm aiming to space (HAH. SPACE PUNS.) these next few chapters out a bit more, but I wanted to get this one out there to give you guys a nice cliffhanger (I love you, I swear) before I force anticipation. (They'll probably come out, like, every other day because, when I have ideas, I _must_ write.)
> 
> I know I'm a bit of a broken record, but thank you again for the support. I'm so happy this has been received well so far.


	6. personal update ~ nOT A CHAPTER

Hey everyone!!

I'm stunned at the amount of support I've gotten so far on this fic; I really, really, REALLY appreciate it. I've been meaning to update it as soon as possible, but some personal stuff came up so I'll have to postpone it for a bit. I hope it'll be resolved soon enough so I can focus on my studies and on my writing again. I'm sorry again for the inconvenience - I know it's kinda disappointing. Thank you so much for waiting!!

~ Chii


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